Archive for January 2010

The second part of Teri’s memorial was today. Yesterday was for everyone; this was more of a family ceremony. We all went down to the lower pasture, and her husband, son, grandson, and other relative helped plant the young sycamore straight and strong.

Then her daughter and others planted flowers around its base. Johnny-jump-ups, which will reseed, and tulips, which will come up next year.

It was simple, but touching. Some old friends donated a pair of beautiful benches, which will be placed later. It’s a place that’s as nature made it, not groomed and gardened, but that’s the way we want it to be. It’s a family site, to be held in trust.

It’s a quiet day here, even though the sun came out. Even this little house finch sat in the elderberry to get his picture taken.

The memorial tomorrow is in all our thoughts, of course. A lot of people have had a hand in planning it. It should be memorable, if sad.

On a happier note, we had a visit today from boarder Jane, who had such a nasty accident a while back. She is getting around with a cane, having gotten rid of her walker. And boarder Cathy is doing much better. She’s off the breathing machine at last.

It’s been a rough few months for quite a few people around here. We’re thinking of all of them.

My favorite sunset picture ever. It was taken just after a hailstorm, in 2006. I’ve used it before, but sunsets are such a symbol of hope and renewal.

Teri’s memorial service/potluck/life celebration is Saturday at 1:00, at the quonset hut over at Rancho Notsogrande. The notice in the paper gave our address, but that’s not correct; we’ve got no place large enough to do. The neighbors kindly volunteered their clubhouse, as weather could be a problem. We’ll just have to hope for the best on that one; it could be quite a crowd.

Things are drying out here, and today is beautiful after yesterday’s fog. It’s looking like it’s going to be a wonderful spring.

My sleep test, that is. I’ve had the little disks glued all over my upper body, on my legs, and in my hair. Then they put you in a stuffy warm room, all hooked up, and tell you to go to sleep. Oh yeah.

Billy, as planned, dropped me off and picked me up. The fog was dense in spots at four o’clock in the morning, so I was glad he was driving. Mostly, it wasn’t so thick as to be dangerous, and made milky halos around all of the street lights; rather pretty.

I had a nap when we got home, another one this afternoon, and may doze off this evening in front of the fire. Let’s hear it for sleep . . . zzzzzz

Little Gina is recovering nicely from her nearly fatal truck encounter. She packs her right hind leg at times, but is obviously cheerful and nearly pain-free. Here, she is greeting a visiting dachshund — crouching down a bit to do so. The only obvious sign of her injury is the growing-out patch where her side was shaved.

It’s raining right now, and it’s been several hundredths so far. The crew was in the midst of pen cleaning when it hit, so I’m not sure if they were glad for a break, or sorry they might have to do some of it all over again. At least the arenas are ripped and draining well.

I’ll be off to my sleep test this evening. Billy’s going to drive me over, because he knows my night-time depth perception is not very good any more. Of course, that means he’ll have to pick me up; and the test is over at five in the morning. I’ll set the alarm for him before I go. He’s stymied by anything with more than one button.

I glanced outside last night, thinking that it was a nice sunset but not good enough to get my camera for. Then I did a double take, raced for my camera, and galloped outside. There was a large and perfect sun pillar in the sunset.

Sun pillars are, it seems, not extremely rare, but unusual. No doubt many people have seen them without knowing what they were looking at. It really is a pillar of light; rose-red, pink, gold, or white. They are formed by light refracting of snow crystals in the atmosphere, and they don’t last long.

I ran outside and snapped a picture. The pillar was already waning. The camera informed my that my shot was blurred, and did I want to keep it? Yes/No? Quickly I punched Yes, only then remembering that the camera had to cogitate to itself for a minute or so before letting me take another. And the light was fading every second.

The full brilliance was already gone when I took the above shot. Now it was really getting dark, so I switched over to the “sunset” setting on the camera. It lets you take pictures in fading light, but distorts the color.

Even if my pictures aren’t perfect, I was glad to record this unusual and beautiful sight. I wonder; how many other people saw it?

If you want to see some really good sun pillar pictures, as well as other amazing and glorious atmospheric effects, go to http://www.atoptics.co.uk/halo/pillar.htm . They have great information as well as spectacular photos. How I would like to see a glory . . . or diamond dust.